


The Right Deduction

by Roseheart18000



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Basically, John is confused, M/M, OOC John, OOC Sherlock, Sherlock is Sherlock, What Was I Thinking?, except not really, what is even happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:10:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roseheart18000/pseuds/Roseheart18000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I found this little plot bunny/prompt on tumblr one day and then this just happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Deduction

The doctor was pressed awkwardly against his flatmate, in the tight confines of a cupboard, the handle jarring into the blonde's back painfully. Sherlock had texted him earlier that evening, with a matter of 'great importance' that resulted in them hiding in a cupboard from the cleaners. Sighing quietly, John glared at the detective in the darkness, hoping the dark-haired man would feel his glare boring into him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he took John's shoulders and maneuvered around him, eventually having his own back pressed against the door. "Honestly John, if it's that much trouble why did you bother coming?" He looked at John through the darkness.

John adjusted his position so as not to have his body completely pressed to the man in front of him. But to no avail. "Well why wouldn't I have come? You said it-" John was cut off by Sherlock quickly clamping a hand over his mouth.

"John, be quiet." The detective ordered, leaning his head against the door. John attempted to remove Sherlock's hand from his mouth.

"Shmerl-" He pulled Sherlock's hand away. "Sherlock,' he whispered, leaning closer to him "What is it? Do you hear someone?" John could only pray it wasn't the cleaners. After all, they were cramped in the confines of the supply closet. he did not want to have to explain their situation and compromising position. And Sherlock was already in enough trouble, no need to get in any more.

Sherlock could hear footsteps retreating down the hall and let out the breath he had been holding. He then reached behind him and grasped the door handle, carefully opening the door. Stepping out, he turned and grasped John's hand firmly before pulling him down the hall, "Keep your head down." He instructed.

John did as he was told and let Sherlock lead him down the hall. Without his gloves on, he couldn't help but note how warm Sherlock's hands were. He quickly shook that thought away as they neared the entrance. Throwing open the doors they stepped out onto the steps. He heard a loud, gruff voice talking nearby and momentarily felt panicked, they wouldn't make it off the grounds in time.

Sherlock turned to John and looked at him for a brief moment. He saw the cleaners approaching and took a step closer to the blonde. "John, don't hit me," he whispered before he gripped the sides of John's coat and pulled him closer, closing the distance between them and pressing their lips together.

When the detective kissed John, he was too stunned to react. He just stood, frozen against Sherlock's lips, unsure of what to do. His mind went blank and the first thought he had was something along the lines of 'What the bloody hell is Sherlock doing?' but he still didn't react. John wasn't sure if he kissed Sherlock back or not, he knew he shouldn't because they were only flatmates after all- friends even. And snogging your friends was not something you did. John was pulled out of his thoughts by a passerby making a comment on 'young love'.

John abruptly pulled away from Sherlock, flustered, and feeling his cheeks heat up as he tried not to look at the detective.

Sherlock simply spun around and kept walking, his alabaster skin now dusted with a light shade of pink. He looked over his shoulder at the doctor staring blankly after him and called back "Come along John." as if nothing had happened.

John was gobsmacked- to say the least. How could Sherlock act so calm? As if nothing had just happened? John shook his head and caught up with Sherlock, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm his rapid heart rate. He still wouldn't make eye contact with the man- who knows what nonsense he would deduce from John's reaction. 'I was simply surprised is all.' he kept telling himself. He watched Sherlock climb through a window and after a moments hesitation, followed.

Once inside, Sherlock led John upstairs and into what appeared to be a large study. He heard Sherlock mutter something about 'files' and 'mahogany' before he headed straight for a large cabinet by one of the windows and started looking through the drawers. John looked around, not knowing what to do with himself. He slowly approached Sherlock and after thinking quickly, ventured into asking "Sh-Sherlock," he cleared his throat and continued "I was just erm... wondering why- why you ah, k-kissed me back there?" he looked at the detective who slowly stood and turned to face him.

"What does it matter John? I don't see the problem here," he paused "Why, is this how you react every time someone kissed you?" he continued making his way around the study, looking at various objects. John turned on the spot and looked pointedly at Sherlock.

"No... I just wasn't, erm... I wasn't expecting it is all," He rubbed the back of his neck and attempted to hide the blush now turning his cheeks a dark shade of pink. Sherlock sighed and raised a brow, glancing at John.

I gave you plenty of warning. 'Don't hit me'? After all, we didn't get caught did we? So my plan worked. You see," he continued, almost talking to himself but still looking at John. "The cleaners were heading towards us and we were no doubt going to be seen. In order to distract them from our being there, trespassing, and to obstruct our faces from view, I simply kissed you. Thus they noticed two people simply sharing a kiss, not two people trespassing on the museum grounds." He then turned and rifled through an open drawer by the desk.

John sill couldn't believe Sherlock was so calm about it. He watched him go through the drawer and pull something out- a large beige envelope. "Aha," Sherlock said softly, opening it. "There you are." He pulled out another envelope from inside and put the larger one back. He then continued making his way around the room. John knew better than to ask what he was doing, so he simply watched Sherlock at work for a few minutes.

"Sherlock," he began. "I still don't see why you needed to, ahm- kiss me. You couldn't have done anything else?" He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Sherlock.

Sherlock turned and sighed "Really John, I don't see what the problem is. It's not a big deal. Does it really bother you that much?" He pulled a file out of the drawer and faced the doctor. "I didn't think so, given your risen heart rate and elevated pulse." The ghost of a smile caused the corner of Sherlock's lip to twitch upwards. John's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks heat up.

"I-I don't know what y-you ah, mean." John stammered, looking anywhere but the detective's face. 'Stop with the bloody blushing John, you're not a schoolgirl with a crush!' "You're deduction may not be a-accurate, Sherlock." He tried to smile lightly, but knew it was useless- he suddenly felt nervous and restless.

Sherlock just smiled coyly. "John, you and I both know- my deductions are always correct." He took the envelope and the file and left the room, making sure to brush against John as he left. John felt his breath hitch and mentally hit himself. 'Thanks Sherl...' he thought and begrudgingly followed the black coat down the stairs, attempting to wipe his blush off his face.

Once outside, John was determined not to let Sherlock get away with that. "Really Sherlock, I'm fine. It's no problem, honestly." He attempted. Sherlock just turned to face him, a smile playing at his lips.

"Oh really? What about all of the 'I'm not his date' and 'I'm not gay'. You sure seemed to protest that. Why is this not a problem now?" Sherlock took a step closer to John, who took a step back automatically.

"No, I mean- it's not like anyone saw who would... Well I don't think. Oh shut up." John rolled his eyes and looked down the street, hoping no one was around to watch what was happening. He glanced at Sherlock and saw him smirking. John let out a weak laugh. "Sherlock, whatever you're trying to do, it's not going to work. I mean really, I'm fine. You could kiss me again and it wouldn't mean anything. I would be fine- it's not even a problem in the slightest." John instantly regretted his words. 'Did you just admit you liked it? No, no you didn't because you didn't like it of course. Just shut your bloody mouth already.' John looked up and saw Sherlock approaching him. "Sherlock," he asked "Sherlock what are you-" he stopped as Sherlock grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back against the wall, trapping him with his hips.

John's eyes widened and then he heard Sherlock day "You asked for it." before pushing his lips against John's again. John felt his heart nearly stop and he felt the color rush back into his cheeks for the umpteenth time that night. 'Bloody hell...' Sherlock pulled away and smirked at John, before turning around and walking away, calling calmly over his shoulder "I'll call a cab." John couldn't understand how he was so composed and collected.

He leaned against the wall and tried to catch his breath, feeling his heart beating rapidly against his chest. 'Damn it Sherlock,' he thought as he walked over to stand next to Sherlock- who had finally managed to get a cab. He climbed in after him and sat quietly, looking out of the window and trying not to make eye contact with the detective next to him. After a few minutes of riding, he felt the taller man's gaze boring into his head. He sighed and turned to face Sherlock, giving him a questioning look. The detective just smiled smugly and looked straight ahead. John inwardly groaned and returned to looking out the window.

Once they reached Baker Street and got out of the cab, John turned to face his flatmate. "Erm, Sherlock. I-I would appreciate it if you would... stop- stop kissing me." He almost laughed at himself. 'Never thought I would say that to him, but here I am.' Sherlock stepped ahead of him and unlocked the door, stepping into their flat.

"Well, if that's what you really want John," he said, heading up the stairs. "Then I will stop." John followed him up the stairs, and for some odd reason, he didn't feel the relief he thought he would feel. Instead he felt... disappointed? John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Before he knew it, he was talking again- completely disregarding the filter between his brain and his mouth.

"No, that's not what I want. I mean- kissing you was, well it was quite pleasant and I-I wouldn't mind kissing you again. I mean- not that I want to, I was just saying that I erm..." John's eyes widened in horror at his words and he bit his lip. Hard. In order to stop himself from making the situation any worse than it already was. 'Did you just tell Sherlock Holmes that you wanted to bloody kiss him? Oh god. Oh my god.' He abruptly turned and headed into the flat as quickly as he could.

Before John got inside the doorway, Sherlock somehow managed to slip on front of him and blocked him from entering. John opened his mouth to say something but Sherlock grabbed his hips and pushed him against the door frame, John felt his breath catch. He looked into John's eyes for a brief moment before leaning in to whisper "My deductions are never wrong." John felt his eyes widen and he looked directly at Sherlock, the sudden realization of 'Oh god, I want to kiss Sherlock bloody Holmes' making his heart skip a beat.

"You're right," he managed to whisper "They never are." Before he knew it, Sherlock had his lips pressed roughly against John's again and John was kissing him back. He kept a tight grip on John's hips as John reached up to wrap his arms around Sherlock, pulling him closer. John's heat beat so rapidly, he thought it was going to explode. He didn't care though, he was kissing Sherlock, and that was all that mattered. He reached a hand up to Sherlock's head and gently tugged at his soft raven curls. He heard Sherlock gasp quietly and smiled to himself. Suddenly, Sherlock pushed their hips together and John let out a strangled cry of surprise. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Sherlock's, breathing heavily. He could hear the detective trying to catch his breath as well. He looked up at Sherlock and saw him smiling. John pulled away and shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. "Well," John looked around and saw they were still on the landing. "I'm glad no one saw that." He joked. Sherlock chuckled and straightened his coat.

"Indeed. People would certainly talk." They looked at each other and couldn't help but smile.


End file.
